Whippersnapper
by sanpan
Summary: Willie comes home to a pint-sized problem by the name of Barnabas Collins.


**I know I have another DS fic running, but some writer's block hit and pumping out another story helped keep the juices running. For all intents and purposes, this is just crack and fluff. Takes place in one of those awkward intervals where Barnabas is human. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Shadows**

* * *

Willie Loomis had been through a lot of things in his life. By things, he meant crap. Scratch that. Shit. He had been through all sorts of shit in his life, so much shit that he was sure if there was a contest for people with terrible lives, he'd lose just because his life was so terrible he couldn't win a shitty life contest. That didn't make much sense, but his life made no sense.

He'd given up on making sense of it. Keeping a smile on his face and being polite and drinking a lot helped. It sure beat the good doctor's prescriptions, anyhow.

That's probably why he wasn't so surprised when he arrived at the Old House and found another problem waiting for him. He announced his presence to the house's master as he stood in the doorway, windbreaker half removed, slouching ever so slightly, and hair mussed from the outside wind. There was no answer though. He'd have to call again in case Barnabas viewed this as an act of insolence.

Sometimes he thought Barnabas would be a lot happier if he drank too.

"Hello?" Nothing.

"It's- it's me, Willie!" Still nothing.

He shrugged and hung the jacket up. Smoothing his head, he turned around and there... _it_ was. Holy smokes. Some kid had broken into the Old House- David's friend, maybe?- he didn't know. The boy looked somewhere between eight and ten, a bit on the short side, dark-haired and scrawny, in a miniature version of what looked like Barnabas' dress shirt.

"Who are you?" they both asked at the same time.

"I work 'ere," Willie huffed, "but I don't think you do, kid."

The brat crossed his arms. "Of course I do _not._" And he eyed Willie in a way that said: Are you an idiot?

That was it. Willie had been called an idiot too many times to count, and this punk wasn't going to be another name caller. He stooped to the kid's level, seeing the sweeping bangs on the boy for the first time. It was disturbingly familiar... and insulting.

"How'd you get in here? Your parents know?" he demanded.

The boy frowned, looking like someone who had just wrecked his dad's favorite car. He probably did too. Willie was about to threaten to call the police on him when the kid spoke. Or rather, jumped up, grabbed a handful of Willie's shirt, and gave him the puppy-dog eyes.

"If you tell them, father will have my head." His lip quivered.

Well, that was a feeling Willie knew all too well. He was too nice for his own good.

"Alright, alright... but we gotta get you home. I can't have my boss find ya here."

The kid gave him that panicked look again. "But I live here!"

He looked serious. Willie wasn't sure if this meant there was something wrong with this boy or if Barnabas adopted a kid without his knowledge. Act first, think later.

"Then how 'bout I take ya down to the sheriff's office? He's a nice guy" - to people whose names were not Willie Loomis- "And we can get stuff sorted with your pop."

"My what?"

"Y- your dad."

"No, no! Then the whole town will know!"

The kid was pretty whiny. Willie crossed his arms. "If ya want my help, you're gonna have to tell me what you did. Or ya can show yourself out the door." He put on his best paternal look (his only paternal look, really, and he'd never used it on anyone besides David Collins, not that it worked very well).

"But I live here!"

"Yeah, yeah, you told me that already. Well?"

The boy let go of Willie's shirt at last. "My father thinks I'm away at school. But I... I came home."

"You're cutting class?"

The kid nodded. "The subjects are too difficult and the schoolmasters are mean and Anthony Whitby is the worst boy who ever lived and he hates me and Theophilus Brown thinks I stole his dolls- why would I? They're ugly!- and Bartholomew Walloton tried to take off my trousers and-"

"Whoa! Whoa- I get it now, y- you can stop," Willie cut him off. Sounded like pretty typical school troubles to him, with some weird names thrown in the mix, and probably a kid who didn't know how to fight back.

"How will you help me?" the kid piped.

"Uh... Guess I'll talk to my boss about this. He can be a nice guy... sometimes, a few times, that one time every two weeks, I dunno. We can work somethin' out later. Come in the kitchen and we'll have a hot drink together, but first you gotta tell me how you got out of school and here."

"I don't remember, but I must have run away."

Willie stood up and led the way to the kitchen. "Okay, then. Ya like tea?"

"Yes. With a pinch of milk and half a teaspoon of sugar."

If the kid talked like this all the time, Willie could see why he'd have problems with his peers. Yeesh. "So what's your name?"

"You're very rude for a servant."

Willie wanted to sock him again. But nice guys didn't do that to bratty children. "Okay, let me say that again. I'm Willie and I work for the master around here- I'm the handyman and the groundskeeper, so ya shouldn't go around calling me a servant. And since you're on my boss's property and I never seen ya in my life, you should tell me your name. 'Specially since I'm helpin' you and all."

The boy looked aghast, as if Willie had just murdered someone in front of him, eaten the remains, and fornicated with the skeleton.

"My name is Barnabas Collins."

Willie wondered if he said something or if his mouth was just hanging open. Did this kid think he was stupid? Like, really stupid?

"I work for him! That ain't your name!"

"It is!" the boy insisted. "You must work for my father!"

"Your dad's been single for a long time an' I don't think he wants kids any time soon!"

Well, that must have struck a nerve because Barnabas Jr. deflated in an instant. He just looked so awkward and sad that ah, hell, Willie was feeling bad for the brat again. This had better not be a prank.

"Come on, tell me your real name. Your dad prob'ly misses you a lot."

"I told you," the boy said, half pouting, "my name is Barnabas. And father will have my head."

Willie was going to write the kid off as delusional at this point, but in Collinsport, he should be used to ridiculous things by now. It was all very possible that the kid was telling the truth. And if he was, the implications hinted at activities Barnabas had hidden from him or even zanier, this kid could very well be...

"What's your dad's name? Wouldn't hurt to tell me, huh?"

"His name is Joshua Collins. My mother is-"

Willie didn't hear the rest of what he had to say. He supposed anyone could look up the Collins family history and do some bull with it, but what would the point be? Maybe Willie himself was being set up for a stupid prank. But so much shit had happened in Collinsport he had to admit that something was wrong here.

They should have that tea first. He pretty much scooped the kid into his arms, ignoring the protests ("Unhand me, you fiend!" "I want Ben!" "I could have you flogged for this!") and stranger phrases thrown in there ("Your hair smells good, Willie." "Are you going to make tea with milk and sugar?" "You can sit with me at the table because nobody's home.")

He didn't sit with the kid and he swore the boy was pouting when that happened. Willie had to make a phone call instead. As it turned out, Barnabas wasn't at Collinwood. But Julia was.

* * *

And Julia confirmed that yes, the boy was Barnabas, de-aged, selectively amnesiac, and a really fussy handful. Barnabas actually laughed when Julia claimed to be a doctor. And then when she was checking him over, he told her how inappropriate it was to be unmarried at her age. Then he asked if she was a widow. Then to prevent Julia from smacking him, Willie told Barnabas to zip it.

"Sip it?"

"Zip it- it means ya should shut up."

And then she had to take a blood sample with the boy sitting on his adult self's favorite armchair. Then the boy screamed and cried blood murder (his exact words) and pretty much made death threats at them all ("Drawn and quartered! Drawn and quartered!"). Willie knew who David took after now. He should really tell Miss Winters some day.

In the end, Julia ordered _Willie_ to sit in the chair and hold Barnabas in his lap. The boy was like a vibrator, with all his shaking. She got the sample and Willie got a kick to the shin.

"I'm going to have to run a test on this," Julia said, putting the sample in her purse, "but from the bone structure and general... mannerism, this is a Collins, if not Barnabas himself."

"Ya- ya don't honestly think that's what happened here, do ya?"

"Willie, stranger things have happened." And Julia gave him that look that said, are you kidding me?

"Well, I- I mean what if he had a fling with a girl and this kid-"

"That's impossible." For a moment, Willie thought Julia's eyes flashed murder.

"I guess so... but don't you find this a little too- too weird?"

"Would a full physical dismiss your doubts?"

"I guess not. I'd never seen him naked." And now he was having terrible mental images.

"Then I'm going to need you take care of him while I confirm that sample. I'll be back in an hour or two. Don't try to explain too much to him."

"But Julia..." he faltered.

"But what?"

"It's kinda hard."

Barnabas was still in his lap, surprisingly quiet. Then the boy spoke, "I must relieve myself."

"Really hard," Willie corrected.

* * *

The truth was he'd never babysat anyone before and certainly not spoiled eighteenth-century schoolboys who would grow up to become bipolar vampires. Willie really wished Julia would get back sooner, but maybe she was taking her time. She didn't seem too happy about the kid really being Barnabas' bastard. But Willie could see why she wouldn't be too happy about this kid really being Barnabas either.

He supposed if he was in love with a man one day, only to have that man's wiener be the size of a baby hotdog the next day, that'd rub him the wrong way too. Plus it'd make him a pedophile. Yeah, he could see why Julia was stalling.

But how the hell was that fair to Willie?

He spent about an hour telling Barnabas that the phone wasn't a work of witchcraft and explaining his own clothes away as a new fashion trend ("Ya see, lotsa things happened while you were at school."). And the kid asked him about this Ben again, so Willie just used his imagination ("He had ta go whale-huntin.' What? Ya didn't know he hunted whales? You need to pay more 'tention to these things.") Then came the question on when and why Willie was hired ("Cause I'm a handsome, strong guy, a lot better than Ben so your dad called me in an' here I am."). And then Barnabas just had to ask where his mother was- of course, Willie didn't have the heart to tell him that his mother died a century ago... and so did his father... and sister... and Ben... and that horse in the stable... and... yeah ("Whale huntin'. Yeah, your mommy hunts whales- see, this is what happens when you don't pay attention to the grownups.").

"Do you hunt whales?" the boy asked, confused by all the answers. For some reason, it didn't seem to occur to him that Willie was lying through his teeth. Willie suspected it was either because he was a good liar or Barnabas was just a dense kid. Maybe both.

"Yeah, used to, never caught one though."

"Why not?"

"Cause... cause, ya see, there was this great white whale. We called 'im Moby Dick. Nearly took my leg one time."

Barnabas covered his mouth, eyes wide with astonishment. Willie was astonished at the reaction. So he went on, with Ishmael as Willie Loomis, and Captain Ahab as Captain McGuire in a very loose rendition of Moby Dick's tale. Barnabas bought every detail.

"And then the sirens were callin' to us and-"

"Sirens are real!?"

"Yeah, and so are harpies and mermaids. I'd know. I kissed one." He did kiss a girl in the water once- it was close enough.

"Jeremiah says only ghosts are real."

"Well, I ain't Jeremiah. Back to the story, don't ya wanna know what happened to the pirates?"

"I do."

"I'm kinda tired... think I'll be quiet for a bit-"

"No! Willie, you have to tell me! You must!" Heaven help him- Willie almost found _Barnabas_ adorable.

"Okay, okay. So I was tied- chained to a pole and a shark was eatin' Jason's leg. One eye Joe was 'bout to off us when lo and behold, Moby Dick shows up and ruins the ship- it just- it just snapped in half!"

"_No_!"

"Oh, it did. And Moby just took Joe down with 'im. I shook the chains off just in time and we were down in the ocean. Moby woulda ate us all if Jason didn't fire that harpoon. Then we were driftin' at sea for a long time- no food and no water, hadda wait until a fisherman picked us up."

Barnabas was staring up at him in... awe? Willie found it a bit disconcerting but he wasn't about to feel upset. Looks of condescension, anger, sometimes pity- now, those were looks he was used to from Barnabas. Never once had there been something even close to admiration. If felt kind of good.

"It's gettin' late. I think we should stop here."

"But what happened to Maggie the mermaid?"

"Since one eye Joe died, she was free... and to thank me and Jason for settin' her free, she gave me a kiss, right 'ere on the mouth. And then-" Willie caught himself before he got to the love-making. He wasn't sure if Barnabas knew of such things yet or if it was a taboo subject for a "servant" to say.

"She had ta go home so she rode the Blue Whale back into the water."

"_No_."

"_Yes_."

And then while Barnabas was busy basking in Willie's glory, the man's stomach growled.

"Barnabas, I heard your stomach talk- ya must be hungry."

"I am?"

"Yeah, did ya know that when people are real hungry, they don't hear their own stomachs?"

"_No_."

"Yep, so I'm gonna go make dinner and you need to stay right 'ere."

* * *

Barnabas actually _did_ stay right there on the armchair. The boy had suggested stuffed pheasant for supper, along with pumpkin soup, garlic bread, and cranberry sauce. Willie ordered pizza. Come to think of it, he'd never had pizza in the Old House. He didn't know if Barnabas would like it, but eh- he didn't have time to hunt a pheasant.

It was cheese and pepperoni and it smelled good. It'd be even better with a can of beer, but none were to be found in the residence. So he had to settle for water. He fixed up a slice for Barnabas on the table and half a cup of water. Even pulled the chair up.

But the boy didn't seem too enthusiastic when sitting down.

"Okay, now I'm gonna go in the drawing room- ya just lemme know when you're done."

"Mm."

Barnabas stared at the red and yellow slice, apparently trying to make sense of it. "I need a fork, Willie."

"Just a sec-" "And a knife." "-Got it-" "Are you going to sit with me?"

Willie placed the utensils on the boy's napkin and tilted his head. "Gee, I don't know if I should- I mean, you're the master...'s son."

"Nobody's home," Barnabas muttered, lowering his gaze sightly, "you can sit with me. No one will know."

So Willie did. He sat across and rather awkwardly waited for Barnabas to start his dinner. The kid cut a piece slowly, as if he was afraid the pizza would bite him. "It looks like pie."

"Yeah."

Barnabas took a bite. Then another. And another. Until his eyes lit up and a relieved Willie started on his own slice.

"So, ya wanna tell me about your friend, Theo-syphilis or whatever?"

"Theophilus is really good at mathematics. But we are no longer friends." Barnabas took another bite of his pizza and continued talking after swallowing, "his dolls went missing last week and he thinks I did it. If he wasn't so pretty, I would be mad."

Willie didn't know what to make of that last comment so he didn't say anything. "Why does he think you did it?"

Barnabas sulked (?). "Because Anthony Whitby said I did. I hate him so much! I loathe him- he deserves to be hanged and-"

"Calm down there. Ya shouldn't go around sayin' stuff like that."

"Why not?"

"Well, what if Anthony Whitby hears you?"

The boy pondered this. "You're right. It would only anger him more. I told him there was a hole in his sock once and it did not bode well."

"See? I'm always right. And 'sides, if Theo-mucus believes him so fast, I don't think it'd do you good to keep an idiot friend."

Barnabas nodded and finished the remains of his pizza. Willie hoped he wasn't expecting dessert.

"Willie, do you miss her?" Barnabas asked rather abruptly.

"Miss who?"

"Maggie the mermaid."

_Well, I still get wet dreams about her_. "Sometimes."

"Tell me another story."

"I'm out for the day," Willie said with a hint of suspicion. He had no idea how long Barnabas would stay this way or when Julia would come back. But most importantly, he didn't know what he'd do if Barnabas stayed this way for the whole night and was too hyper to let Willie sleep.

Maybe if he just let the boy tire himself out?

* * *

Taking Barnabas into Collinsport was out of the question- it wouldn't do anyone any good if Willie was caught with a mini Barnabas look-alike. And he didn't want the kid to get a heart attack when he looked at modern day Maine. Also, it'd look pretty bad if Willie was acting shifty around a little kid that no one knew. People thought he was messed up enough as it was.

Which was why they were running around the Old House in a game of tag. Willie was it and Barnabas was annoyingly fast. Willie hoped they wouldn't destroy anything around the house even if everything technically belonged to Barnabas.

"I'm right behind ya!" Willie called, laboriously climbing a flight of stairs, "you can run but ya can't hide! Not from ol' Loomis!"

Barnabas paused to catch his breath and Willie latched onto the boy's waist. Holy smokes- one of them let out a stream of giggles and Willie was sure it wasn't himself. Barnabas slipped out of Willie's loose grip and continued his sprint down the hall.

"Willie is a silly goose!" he cried.

Willie was still recovering from the fact that Barnabas had giggled in his arms. Giggled. _Giggled_.

"Yeah, well- well, this goose lays golden eggs!" Willie retaliated, wondering how low he had sunk to not even be able to counter a child's (lame) insult.

"Silly eggs!"

Willie caught sight of the laughing form and lunged. He was flat on his stomach and with both hands, caught Barnabas mid-run, pulling the boy down and cradling him in tickles.

"So who's a silly goose now?"

"You- HA- you- are!"

"Wanna say that again?"

"Wi- HAHA- Willie is a silly-"

Maybe Willie was drunk and this was all some trippy hallucination but it certainly _felt_ real. Also, his ears were filled with the boy's shameless laughter. Oh crap- what if Willie wasn't supposed to handle eighteenth century pipsqueaks this way. What if Barnabas remembered all this when he got back to normal. _I'm gonna die!_

Barnabas poked the handyman in the nose. "Silly goose," he gasped before escaping Willie's grip, his giggling echoing off the walls.

* * *

Willie hoped that game had tired Barnabas out because _he_ was tired out. All he wanted to do was plop down somewhere and sleep, but Julia still hadn't returned and it was so dark out that Willie had to light candles. He wouldn't have to go through all this trouble if Barnabas had just installed electric lights. If he was willing to get a phone, why not lights? It baffled Willie.

Well, little Barnabas _did_ tell him he found school difficult. Willie snorted. Now it all made sense.

"Willie! There's someone else here!" Barnabas cried from behind a wall, "It's a girl!"

Damn it! Willie set the candle down, biting his tongue as the flame nipped at his finger in his haste. He hurried towards the boy's spot and sighed in relief when nothing was there.

"She was here a moment before," Barnabas said, furrowing his brows.

"D- did she have a little hat, like this?" Willie asked, using his hands to outline the cap's shape. Barnabas nodded. Crap. How was he supposed to explain this?

"She said I looked like her brother."

Or maybe Willie didn't have to explain anything. "Huh, that's funny. Do ya know her? Maybe it's just some ghost that got lost."

"I have never seen her and I do _not_ have any siblings," the boy stated, and then for good measure, "And I never will!"

Well, Barnabas had his priorities straight: he seemed more troubled by the thought of a sister than a ghost in his house. Willie didn't want to egg him on. "If you're scared, just come with me- you can watch me light the candles."

Without a word, Barnabas followed him, casting an agitated glance left and right before blurting, "I don't have a brother?"

Willie hoped not. "Nah."

"Or a sister."

Willie hoped he wouldn't hurt the little ghost's feelings with his reply. "Nope."

Relieved, Barnabas took hold of Willie's hand, the latter awkwardly returning the grip.

"Bartholomew said father is going to send me away if he has another son. But now I know that will never happen, right Willie?" The kid's eyes were shining in the dark and Willie took a moment to form his reply.

"No, it won't happen... and 'sides, even if ya did get a brother, I ain't letting him make you go away." He squeezed the little hand for reaffirmation.

* * *

"So you're sayin' he'll be back to 'normal' in the morning?" Willie asked again, Julia resting on the chair across from him.

"If the good professor is to be believed, yes. I'm still trying to figure out how this 'curse' came about, but seeing as Quentin's gone missing, we can assume it wasn't completely Barnabas' fault."

Willie thought it would have been more polite if Julia let him know she was going to see Stokes after confirming the blood sample. Mostly, he was just glad nobody saddled him with a mini-Quentin too. One pubescent Collins was enough. Said Collins was flipping through a dusty book on the ground, more interested in ripping the corners of the book's pages than the contents. If Barnabas ever tried to accuse Willie of ruining the pages, he had Julia as an eye witness to what really happened.

"Dr. Hoffman," Barnabas piped, "have you ever hunted whales?"

"No, dear."

"My mother does. And so does Willie. He almost lost a leg to Moby Dick."

Willie offered Julia a nervous smile. Her gaze was stern. What kind of lies have you fed him? she mouthed. I dunno, he mouthed back.

Barnabas had abandoned the book in favor of standing by Julia, having apparently forgotten about his "drawn and quartered" threats from earlier. "Willie was on a hunt with Captain McGuire when they were captured by pirates," he recounted excitedly, Willie's mortification growing by the second.

But Julia's attention was on the kid and not on Willie, thankfully: "Oh? A mermaid named Maggie?" "She was the most beautiful woman this side of the sea." "One-eyed... _Joe_?" "His real name is Joe Haskell."

The conversation droned on, with the doctor occasionally offering the boy a fond smile. Willie caught her brushing a stray lock of hair from the kid's head a few times. It was so... _normal_ and weird at the same time that Willie didn't know what to think. If it was always like this, maybe he'd cut back a few drinks. A bunch of candles, a soft chair, that motherly voice, a little boy who adored his every word... his lids drooped. Yeah, if he ever had a Loomis household, he'd like it to look something like this-

"Willie," Julia said, bringing him back from sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Whaa?"

"I told you to draw up a bath. It's his bedtime."

Bedtime? Oh right. They should probably get Barnabas to bed before he got cranky on them. Wait a second- "Bath?"

"That's what I said. I'm afraid you're going to have assist him."

"B- but Julia! I can't do that- it- it'd be weird!"

"And it will be less weird if I do it?"

She had a point there.

* * *

Willie would never be able to unsee Barnabas in the bathtub. He was on a stool, trying to avert his eyes from the boy, who was way too comfortable being naked in front of the handyman in Willie's opinion. And now the image of Barnabas as a wet-haired child with a small... thing... would be forever ingrained in his memory. He hoped that if Barnabas remembered this in the morning, Willie's life would be spared.

"When is my father coming home?" Barnabas asked as Willie scrubbed at his back with a bar of soap.

"In a few days. But don't worry- I'll take care of it."

"And my mother?"

"Few days. Whale huntin' takes time, ya know."

"Oh."

Willie lifted the kid's arm and scrubbed at the pits. It was horribly awkward.

"Do I have go back to school?"

"Course ya do. It's what good boys do. I wish I finished school- would have made things a lot different for me."

"But I'm rich and you're poor." Willie had to admit he had a point.

"Well, it's not always about money. If you're real smart, it can help with a lot of things, like what ya should and shouldn't do. Stuff like that."

"Oh."

"Do ya believe me?"

"I suppose."

"S'pose huh?" Willie laughed, giving the boy's ear a nudge.

* * *

Julia was taking a smoke when Willie returned from his task, slightly wet and exhausted. He wasn't sure if he tucked in Barnabas the right way, but the kid didn't complain so maybe he did alright. It was a bit hard explaining why the room looked different from what Barnabas remembered, but it was nothing that Willie couldn't blab over ("Cause your old room was boring. That's why.").

"Are you gonna stay the night, Julia?" he asked with a yawn.

"I might as well."

That's a relief. Willie didn't quite remember how the rest of the night passed, but he recalled getting Julia set up in one of the spare rooms, taking a smoke from her, and going to his own bed without regard for hygiene- no bathing, no brushing, no changing. In his half-asleep daze, the events of the day rolled past him and he was nearly convinced it was all a dream when there was a desperate knock on his door.

_What now?_

With hooded eyes, he opened it and blinked. It wasn't a dream, then. Because Barnabas, still quite small, was staring up at him with a hint of sniffling. Willie forced himself to wake up fully and knelt by the boy.

"Hi, what's wrong?"

"Father isn't coming home, is he?" the kid whispered.

Oh crap. "W- why would you think that?"

"Willie, are they all dead?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer that? Willie gently scooped the boy up, receiving no resistance, and walked toward his bed, not bothering to close the door behind him.

"I had a dream," Barnabas whimpered.

"Just a bad dream," Willie said, setting the boy on the bed. "That's all."

"But everyone's gone." The kid lowered his eyes, rubbing at one of them. Willie was about to say more words of stock reassurance when he remembered another boy, one with yellow hair, whose lip quivered when he cried in the corners, who just couldn't be placated by the grownups' lies.

"I'm not gone," Willie said instead, taking his place on the bed, "I get lotsa bad dreams too, but in the morning, everything's a lot better." He left out the fact that half of those nightmares were Barnabas' fault.

Barnabas snuggled against Willie's arm, and really hoping this episode would be forgotten in the morning, Willie placed his other arm over the boy's shoulder. "I'm not gone," he said again.

"I'm sorry," the boy muttered, for what Willie didn't know. All he knew was that this was the way he fell asleep, Barnabas burrowed against him and the covers oddly comforting. It wouldn't be so bad if things stayed this way- he supposed he could deal with it. Wondered if Barnabas could ride a bike...

* * *

The small weight on his arm was gone in the morning, but that side of his body still felt rather numb. Willie sat up, wondering what was wrong when it all came back to him like a pile of bricks. The brat he came home to, the brat who turned out to be Barnabas, Julia and the blood sample, pizza, and oh, oh, ugh, the bath. Or it could just be a dream. A weird dream.

After a quick comb and some hygienic necessities, he went about the house looking for people. He caught a glimpse of Julia in the drawing room, munching on a piece of left-over pizza. They never had pizza in the Old House. It wasn't a dream.

Maybe if he sneaked back into his room, no one would notice- then again, he did want to know if Barnabas was "normal" again. Clearing his throat, he made his way over to Julia and greeted her.

"Mornin' good."

"Come again?"

"G- good mornin- ah, I'm a bit out of it right now."

"With the way you conduct yourself, one would think you were 'out of it' all the time," said a deeper voice.

Willie's eyes flicked toward its owner. Barnabas was sitting cross-legged in the armchair, engrossed in a thick book. The lines on his face were back, his hands once again larger than Willie's, the legs longer- there was no doubt that he was a man again, only a dim hint of the kid from the day before remaining.

"You don't gotta be rude about it."

"Hm."

"There's still half a pizza left in the kitchen, Willie. Do you think you can finish it by tonight?" Julia asked, "Food left out too long is no good for the health, even if you're in your prime."

_Maybe if Barnabas would let me get a fridge, that wouldn't be a problem._ Also, he could finish that pizza in one sitting so it was a moot point. "Yeah, I'll go fix myself some now."

Willie shot a few glances backwards as he walked on, oddly disappointed when Barnabas didn't so much as look his way. He wondered if the older man even remembered the other day. That shouldn't sadden him, though- he was the one hoping Barnabas would forget the whole thing... or maybe he didn't really hope that. Not really.

"Quentin's looking for you," he heard Julia say, to which Barnabas replied, "I do not wish to speak to him right now."

"It wasn't his fault, Barna-"

"Not now, Julia. I'm reading, though I must say I prefer the version I was first familiar with."

Willie chanced another glance at the other two. The book Barnabas held looked rather new- wait, there was still a price sticker on it. It was almost as if someone had rushed out and bought it in the morning. Then he caught the title of the book: _Moby Dick_.

The corners of Willie's mouth tugged upwards. So he wasn't the only "silly goose" around.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hope it wasn't too trippy your tastes and feel free to review.**


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